and hated worse to see me with Princess Flavia; yet I am persuaded that he tried to conceal both feelings, and, further, that he tried to persuade me that he believed I was verily the king. I did not know, of course; but unless the king was an impostor, at once cleverer and more audacious than I (and I began to think something of myself in that rôle), Michael could not believe that. And if he didn't how he must have loathed paying me deference, and hearing my "Michael" and my "Flavia"!
"Your hand is hurt, sire," he observed with concern.
"Yes; I was playing a game with a mongrel dog (I meant to stir him), and you know, brother, such have uncertain tempers."
He smiled sourly, and his dark eyes rested on me for a moment.
"But is there no danger from the bite?" cried Flavia anxiously.
"None from this," said I. "If I gave him a chance to bite deeper it would be different, cousin."
